it was clear that every one in the room, save
Poiret, was of the medical student's opinion, so that the latter, strong
in the support of the majority, went up to that elderly person.

"You are more intimate with Mlle. Michonneau than the rest of us," he
said; "speak to her, make her understand that she must go, and go at
once."

"At once!" echoed Poiret in amazement.

Then he went across to the crouching figure, and spoke a few words in
her ear.

"I have paid beforehand for the quarter; I have as much right to be here
as any one else," she said, with a viperous look at the boarders.

"Never mind that! we will club together and pay you the money back,"
said Rastignac.

"Monsieur is taking Collin's part" she said, with a questioning,
malignant glance at the law student; "it is not difficult to guess why."

Eugene started forward at the words, as if he meant to spring upon her
and wring her neck. That glance, and the depths of treachery that it
revealed, had been a hideous enlightenment.

"Let her alone!" cried the boarders.

Rastignac folded his arms and was silent.

"Let us have no more of Mlle. Judas," said the painter, turning to Mme.
Vauquer. "If you don't show the Michonneau the door, madame, we shall
all leave your shop, and wherever we go we shall say that there are only
convicts and spies left there. If you do the other thing, we will hold
our tongues about the business; for when all is said and done, it might
happen in the best society until they brand them on the forehead, when
they send them to the hulks. They ought not to let convicts go about
Paris disguised like decent citizens, so as to carry on their antics
like a set of rascally humbugs, which they are."

At this Mme. Vauquer recovered miraculously. She sat up and folded her
arms; her eyes were wide open now, and there was no sign of tears in
them.

"Why, do you really mean to be the ruin of my establishment, my dear
sir? There is M. Vautrin----Goodness," she cried, interrupting herself,
"I can't help calling him by the name he passed himself off by for an
honest man! There is one room to let already, and you want me to
turn out two more lodgers in the middle of the season, when no one is
moving----"

"Gentlemen, let us take our hats and go and dine at Flicoteaux's in the
Place Sorbonne," cried Bianchon.

Mme. Vauquer glanced round, and saw in a moment on which side her
interest lay. She waddled across to Mlle. Michonneau.

"Come, now